By Morgan Hannah, Life & Style Editor
I think I’m a night owl
after spending much time trying to be a morning lark.
Rising late and staying up early,
the sun blinks awake before I sleep.
I think I’m a night owl
comforting dark sheets of night,
swathing in loneliness—
me, myself, and I.
I think I’m a night owl
aching to change
but comfort finds me before the morning,
light poured like orange juice at noon.
I miss the morning.
